


Craving

by Kangoo



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Apparently V's Name is Vitale, Blow Jobs, I can't believe I'm writing smut now, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, well i sure hope V isn't related to anyone in the sparda family, writing filth instead of taking notes in class: the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 05:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangoo/pseuds/Kangoo
Summary: Nero finally manages to get into V's pants





	Craving

**Author's Note:**

> i love V SO MUCH you guys
> 
> this is my first time ever writing smut and i have no idea what i'm doing i'm just very gay and very into that Edgy Aesthetic V is giving off
> 
> also i wrote most of this in class and the rest at 2 am so all of it was done while half-asleep, sorry

The first thing Nero does when they enter Devil May Cry is whirl around and pin V against the door, forcefully closing it with the impact. The other hunter is a little taller than him but easily distracted by the slightest bit of friction, and all it takes is a knee between his legs to keep him in place, helplessly grinding against Nero. He takes advantage of it to kiss him like he’s been wanting to do for the whole drive there. Anyone could walk in on them, but he’s far past caring about that.

V mumbles something unintelligible against his lips, hands closing around the lapel of his coat and pulling as close as physically possible. Nero bites his lower lip, drawing out a low growl from the usually composed man as he licks at the small cut. He tastes like copper and ozone, like a live wire; Nero presses his lips against his jugular and his magic thrums in time with the drumming beat of his heart.

V’s head thunks against the door and he pants for a moment before he lets out, “Bed?”

He thinks about it for a second. On the one hand, Dante has at a guest room — if the spare mattress thrown in his closet can be called such. He’s spent many nights in it. On the other hand, it would require them to actually climb the stairs, and Nero isn’t sure they’re going to make it that far.

He’s half tempted to do it slow and proper anyway, on a real bed, maybe even Dante’s if V can be convinced. It’s a special occasion. It deserves to be treated as such. And V looks about to fall apart already and drawing this out might be the perfect revenge for the weeks of useless pinning he made him go through. But it’s not in Nero’s nature to be patient, or to go slow, and this has been a long, _long_ time coming.

He smirks. “Couch?”

“Good enough.”

It’s all Nero needs to hear. He drags V backward in the general direction of the couch. When his knees hit the armrest he twists around and manages to fall on top of V _and_ the couch, grinning at the improbable spin.

V doesn’t get to complain about the arrangement before Nero is all over him, sucking a trail of bruises down his neck. He follows the sweeping line of his tattoos with his tongue, stopping at every scar to kiss it. He glances up and grins at the stunned look on V’s face, the way his entire face is blushing

Nero can’t do slow, but he sure as hell can do _sweet_. And V is so pretty, it’d be a shame not to take his time on the way down.

“What-” Nero bites his hip bone and he gasps. “ _What_ are you doing?”

Nero stops with his mouth inches above his groin, breath ghosting against the taunt fabric of his pants. “What does it look like?”

He blinks and lets out a faint “ _Oh._ Alright then.”. Nero takes it as consent enough. The way he lets his head fall back with a sharp intake of breath when Nero mouths at his hard-on through the cloth reassures him of his enthusiasm about the situation.

Well, good. Nero does his best work with enthusiastic — and _loud_ — partners.

He unbuttons the pants with the surprisingly nimble fingers of his prosthetic hand, the other one coming to rest against V’s stomach, fingers splayed over the pale skin. He can feel his muscles moving under his touch. He drags the pants and underwear down in one sharp movement, revealing V’s dick, already fully hard and leaking.

“Damn,” he whistles under his breath. “All that for me? I’m honored.”

“ _Nero_ -” His voice is strained and husky, cracking with want.

Nero hears it for the threat it is — his voice is his most powerful weapon and isn’t _that_ an interesting thought to explore later — and smirks, rubbing his cheek against his inner thigh. “Bossy.”

V opens his mouth to retort but Nero doesn’t waste a second, and all that comes out is a gasp when he licks up his dick and sucks lightly on the head, grinning cheekily at the effect he’s having on the man.

Nero likes to think he’s pretty good at blow jobs. He’s had a late start on it, sure — Fortuna wasn’t known for it’s open-mindedness or booming gay scene — but since then he’s been a… _diligent_ student of the art. But he has to be honest: nothing makes him as sure of his skills as the breathless little noises he gets from V as he takes him in his mouth. He presses his tongue against the underside of his head and V makes this— _keening_ sound, high-pitched and desperate.

Again he glances up, drinking in the sight of his bared throat, purple bruises already blooming against the pale skin. Each stroke of Nero’s tongue makes him gasp out soft moans and he’s holding on to the couch with a white-knuckled grip, as if it’s the last thing keeping him together.

He’s taking him apart piece by piece, leaving nothing of the composed demon hunter behind, and it’s the sweetest feeling in the world.

He reaches out blindly and takes V’s hand in his, guiding it to his head. V gets the idea quickly and buries both his hands in Nero’s short hair. He digs his nails in the nape of his neck, pinpricks of pain flaring briefly before disappearing with his fast-paced healing. His arms are taunt with the effort to keep himself from pushing Nero down and keeping him there, making him choke on his dick until he comes.

Nero kinda wishes he would. Instead he tugs on his hair, eliciting an approving hum that makes his hips buckle up. Nero gags briefly — a reflex of his own that he hasn’t been able to get rid of — and pins him back down with his hands. He likes it rough as much as the next guy, but right now he likes the sight of V at his complete mercy more.

Satisfied, he swallows V down, relishing the way his chest rises and falls as he pants. He’s much stronger than him physically, thanks to his demonic heritage, and he takes maybe too much pleasure in seeing V helpless under him.

At a loss for anything else to do, V tighten his grip on his hair and kicks out his legs to wrap them around Nero’s waist, digging the heel of his boots into his back. Nero retaliates with a twist of his tongue and he lets out a string of curses in Italian that quickly dissolve into moans, then sobs as he slowly falls apart under him.

 _God, that’s hot_ , he thinks blearily. Then, because he’s not entirely devoid of mercy, he takes him down to the hilt and doubles up his efforts. It doesn’t take long after that, and soon enough V is coming down his throat with a sobbing moan. Nero swallows it to the last drop and releases his dick with an obscene wet sound, grinning up at the shivering mess he’s made of V.

V tugs lightly on his hair and he follows easily, crawling up the couch to settle over him, kissing his way back up his neck and along his jaw before finally reaching his mouth. Before he can keep going V’s hands fall to the sides of his face and for a moment he just— stares, his eyes roaming Nero’s face, flushed and chest heaving.

“How unbelievable,” he says, in his usual cryptic way, before pulling Nero to him and kissing him deeply.

Nero grins against his lips and lets himself melt into it, skin buzzing with static at each point of contact between their bodies.

One of V’s hands trail down Nero’s chest and slips under his pants, cupping his still-hard dick. He inhales sharply — V’s fingers tingle against his flesh, magic brimming just under the surface.

He bends forward, hiding his face in the crook of V’s neck and gripping his shoulders as the other man jacks him off. He does it gracelessly but efficiently, and Nero gasps wetly against his neck, leaving open-mouthed skin all over the skin as he thrusts into his grip. He’s so close already, hot and hard from the sounds V made while he was sucking him off, and he can barely think through the fog of arousal.

His climax almost takes him by surprise, and he sees white for a moment as he comes into his pants like a teenager. He bites into V’s shoulder to muffle his shout, drawing blood and a long shiver from the older hunter.

They lay there for a moment, panting against each other. At some point V moved to loop his arms around his middle section, one hand splayed over the small of his back, but Nero can’t find it in himself to make a single movement and stays just where he is, forehead pressed against his collarbone.

V is the first one to break the silence, breathing out, “Vitale.”

It takes Nero a moment to realize he spoke. “Wha’?”

“My name. It’s Vitale.”

Nero rolls the name on his tongue, tasting the unfamiliar lilt of his accent. “Vitale,” he tries, and smiles when it comes out sounding half-decent. “We’re doing this thing completely out of order, aren’t we?”

“Quite.”

Reassembling his strength before he falls asleep on the spot, Nero reaches out and tugs lightly on a strand of raven black hair. “Dante is going to freak if he sees us like that.”

“I’ve walked up on him doing worse.”

“So have I, but that’s _his_ couch.” Then, with a mirthful smile, he continues, “Why don’t we go for broke and crash in his bed?”

V— _Vitale_ hums, amusement flashing in his eyes. “Only if you carry me up the stairs. I don’t know where I left my cane.”

“That’s fair.”

Nero reluctantly pushes himself to his feet and, without warning, scoops Vitale in a bridal carry and makes his way to the staircase, laughing at the way he splutters in half-serious offense.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream about dmc to me on [tumblr](https://youngster-monster.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> i also have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/absolyon) but it's 100% guaranteed pure shitpost (and gay thirst, because i'm a disappointment)


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